


Just not right now

by cuteandtwisted



Series: In Every Universe [18]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Doctor Isak, Established Artist Even, Even is endeared and must protec, Exhausted Resident Isak falls asleep everywhere, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, no actual cheating happening, they fall in love but can't do anything about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteandtwisted/pseuds/cuteandtwisted
Summary: "You can't... We can't.. It's not right."Isak settles into an unhealthy longterm relationship with his busy lawyer boyfriend and convinces himself that happiness is not for him. Enter his boyfriend's childhood friend: Even.Or Isak and Even fall in love. But it'snotright.aka: they can't be together but Isak keeps falling asleep in movie theaters after long shifts at the hospital and Even is d y i n g from the cute.





	Just not right now

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii. i've been filling prompts on tumblr to apologize for being away. and this one got a bit long as i wrote it on the plane today so i decided to post it here.
> 
> thanks anon for stopping by! hope you like it <3  
> \+ MedicalResident!Isak and Artist!Even 
> 
> (no cheating happening here)

They meet at a party in Jakob's (and now his) apartment. 

The night doesn’t particularly stand out. The sky is clear and the stars are out, their beauty unnerving, their light disheartening, asking, demanding,  _ watch me _ ,  _ focus on me.  _

And it’s devastating how the very stars Isak used to hold so dear to his heart now remind him of Jakob and of his virtual unattainability. Of how beautiful he is and how effortlessly he draws attention. Of how he shines and eclipses everything else in his vicinity, leaving Isak in his shadows to envy him and love him all the same. 

Isak doesn’t dream of stars anymore. 

Until—

Well, until  _ him. Even. _

Isak meets  _ him _ at a party he’s organized for Jakob to celebrate his most recent promotion at his law firm. He’s been with Jakob for nearly two years now, but he's only started meeting his friends recently—damned be the countless nights spent wondering if Jakob was ashamed of being in a gay relationship or of being with him specifically. 

And perhaps Sana’s right. Perhaps Isak does have masochistic tendencies—though she’s referring to his predisposition to get attached to patients that don’t stand a chance when she utters the word. Perhaps him being with Jakob is his own way of admitting how little he values himself. Perhaps. 

But then Isak thinks about how things were before Jakob, about the loneliness that always assaulted him late at night or early in the morning after a long shift at the hospital, and he swallows.  _ I’ll take this over being alone. I’ll take anything.  _

.

The night Isak first meets Even doesn’t feel earth-shattering. Isak doesn’t feel as though his orbit has shifted. He doesn’t feel as though tonight is about to change the course of his life. No. It feels like any other night spent entertaining Jakob’s pretentious work friends and pretending that their relationship is perfect. He smiles, pours wine and champagne into half-empty glasses, shows guests to rooms and closets where they can store their coats, nods when some ask if they can smoke in their balcony, and nods again when people ask if he’s moved in with Jakob, then laughs at jokes he doesn’t understand. He wonders if lawyers have a different sense of humor or if he’s simply not sophisticated enough. 

At one point, Jakob walks past him, the ghost of his near-presence suffocating, and Isak is overwhelmed by how badly he wishes he would touch him. By how badly he wishes Jakob would actually treat him like a lover in front of his friends, not just when they’re tangled in the sheets. By how badly he wishes Jakob would show him off, place a hand on the small of his back, lean into him, whisper nonsense in his ear like all the couples in their apartment right now. He wishes. Isak wishes. And they remain just that, wishes.

.

He’s yawning with both hands on the counter when Even finds him in the kitchen. And Isak wishes he didn’t commit his first words to him to memory. He wishes.

“Hey stranger.”

“Huh?” Isak utters in confusion. 

"He should be the one trying so hard in my opinion," Even says as he munches on baby carrots, and he’s still a stranger yet those are the kindest words Isak has heard in ages. 

“Hm?” Isak blinks again because he doesn’t quite believe the meaning the words bear.

“Jakob. You’re his boyfriend right?” 

The young man— _ Even, _ his name he will later learn—is tall and blond, and his smile is warm like a sunny July afternoon—Isak’s favorite kind of days. Isak nods then looks away, wracking his brain for a memory featuring  _ this  _ face. He’s positive he’s never seen him before, but he goes through the faces he’s catalogued from previous parties just in case. He doesn’t wish to be rude. 

“Yes, that would be me,” Isak replies after he's convinced himself that it's their first time meeting, finally returning the smile, though it probably doesn’t look as genuine. 

The young man before him is standing over their sink, and it takes Isak a second to realize he’s washing his glass. How considerate.

“You don’t have to—“ he starts, his hands coming up to grab the glass but they’re gently shoved away. Isak blinks.

“You’ve done enough tonight. Don’t you think?” Another smile. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep any second now.”

Isak flushes. Not because he’s flattered or grateful or flustered. He flushes because he’s embarrassed. Embarrassed that someone has noticed how tired he actually is. He’s done everything for tonight to be perfect, yet here he is. 

“Running on three hours of sleep,” Isak admits, shrugging. He’s past the point of caring.  

“You should go lie down. I can entertain your guests for you if you want. I’m good at this stuff.”

“Who are you?” Isak blurts out because this man doesn’t look like the rest of the people in their apartment. He’s in jeans instead of trousers and he’s wearing sneakers and a t-shirt instead of a buttoned-up shirt. 

The stranger laughs, places the clean glass on the rack by the sink, wipes his hands, then extends one of them to Isak. 

“Even. Even Bech Næsheim,” he says and Isak’s eyes widen in understanding. “Jakob’s oldest and most tenacious friend.” 

“Oh. Yeah. I. Uh. I heard about you,” Isak stutters and if he wasn’t nervous before, he is now. He knows all about Even, Jakob’s childhood friend who happens to be bipolar and a genius artist who can draw and shoot and write. Isak swallows. So much for making a good first impression.

“Good or bad things?” 

“Just things,” Isak shrugs. “I guess.” That makes Even laugh again.

“You’re a surgeon, right?” He asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. “I’ve been wondering for a while. How the hell did that ass face land a surgeon?”

Isak flushes at that, at the attention, at the implication that he’s somehow a good catch.

“Well, I’m still in my residency, so I’m not that special,” Isak answers and he bites the inside of his cheek to anchor himself. 

“Bullshit.”

Isak blinks at him and he’s slightly flustered now. Any amount of kindness or attention makes him dizzy with yearning. He wants it. Needs it so badly, it hurts. 

“You should go to bed,” Even adds. “I’ll entertain these asshole lawyers and pretend to be interested in the crap they’re into for you. Yeah?”

Isak isn't sure why but he does as told. He can't tell for certain what prompts his legs to take the trip to his room, but he’s in his bed now. And he falls asleep within minutes, maybe seconds. Later when he dreams, he imagines that it was Jakob who told him to go to bed and offered to entertain the people by himself.

.

They meet at another party hosted by one of Jakob’s friends. Isak is already giddy by the time they cross the threshold, but he’s even more so now that he recognizes a face that doesn’t belong to a ‘lawyer asshole.’

“Hey stranger,” Even greets him with a smile.

Isak doesn’t act confused this time around. He’s prepared and he returns the smile quietly and replies with, “Which part of hell is this?” It makes Even laugh. He’s glad his boyish excitement isn’t bleeding through his words.

"And to think I almost didn’t show up tonight,” Even sighs. “Fancy seeing you here. It’s my first time seeing you at one of these hellish gatherings.” 

“You hate these people this much?” Isak tilts his head and takes a sip from his drink.

“Am I that obvious?”

“You might as well just shout it and get it over with.”

Even laughs then brings his beer to Isak’s drink. They cheer. 

“They think I’m crazy, but they don’t know they’re the crazy ones,” Even tells him in a low voice like it’s a secret. Isak blinks at him, and for a second, he wonders if he’s referring to his bipolar, if the rest of Jakob’s friends somehow think less of him because of his mental illness. 

“You’re right. I’m a doctor and I can actually tell you with confidence that you’re right.”

Even gives him a look and they laugh. It’s comfortable and nice. And Isak couldn’t be happier with his first party among Jakob’s pretentious friends. 

His joy is short-lived, however, because Jakob is talking to a woman by the window and his hand is on the small of her back, and he’s aching with jealous. He can’t stand it. 

“That’s Sonja,” Even says beside him as if he’s read his mind. “One of our oldest friends. She’s awesome. You’ll love her. Follow me. I’ll introduce you.”  

Isak nods beside him, trying to ignore how intrusive Even is actually being right now, peering into his thoughts with no invitation. 

Later when he’s introduced to Sonja and other faces he’s only seen on Jakob’s social media, Isak breathes and laughs and drinks until his eyes are half-lidded. The beer is good and he doesn’t have to pretend to like champagne. Things are good. They’re good until his insides start twisting with envy again when Jakob puts his hands on yet another woman then leans in to whisper something into her ear.  _ Why can’t he touch  _ **_me_ ** _ like that?  _ He’s desperate with it. The words are stuck at the tip of his tongue. And it’s not until Even puts a hand on the small of his back that he realizes he’s said them out loud. 

He panics for a moment before Even leans in to say something in his ear. 

“It’s not you. It’s him,” Even says and the words burn themselves into his mind, vivid and bright. He’s not sure what Even means but he knows exactly what he means all the same. “He panics about being in a relationship with another man in settings like these. He somehow thinks it’s gonna set him back in his career, so he pulls this shit to remind his colleagues of his  _ normalcy _ .”

_ Normalcy. What does that make me? _

“It fucking hurts,” Isak sighs, drunk and hurt.  

“Break up with him.”

"What kind of friend are you?"

"The shitty kind."

.

The words repeat themselves in his head.  _ Break up with him.  _ Four simple words. One short conversation. Isak can do it. He is sure. But the consequences scare him. They share an apartment. They share a life. They have a routine. Jakob shampoos his hair and makes him coffee in the morning sometimes. Jakob holds him when he gets lonely on Sunday nights. Jakob can be lovely when he wants to, when he stops thinking about his job for a moment. Jakob can be lovely. 

Isak is defeated after a long shift at the hospital and he thinks about opening up to Jakob, about finally telling him why he can’t sleep at night, why it hurts so much to go to these parties only to be treated like a roommate, why it stings so bad to host all these parties only to realize that Jakob’s invited a handful of people he trusts to keep his relationship with Isak a secret. 

Being a secret hurts. Isak hates it. 

He thinks about opening up to him about his insecurities, but Jakob is lovely that night. He’s lovely and he surprises him with a trip to Stockholm.

Isak opens up to him that night. But with his body, not his heart or his mind. Isak opens up and makes space for him inside his body, and Jakob takes him then falls asleep before he can hear Isak crying softly into the pillow. 

.

Things are good for a while. They’re good until they get back from Stockholm and they’re not so good anymore. Isak makes peace with the thought that perhaps happiness isn’t for him, that he’s perhaps wishing for too much, that one cannot have everything. At least he has a set of arms to snuggle up to late at night, at least he has a good job and a predictable future and good friends—friends he’s been neglecting lately but who would take him back in a blink, he knows it.

Therefore, Isak delays it, his happiness. It can wait, he thinks, hoping that his own expectations lower by themselves sometime in the future, hoping that there will be a day in which going to these parties will no longer feel insulting.  

At least he has Even, he thinks as he spots him in the crowd. He’s thankful for him in the gatherings in which Jakob pretends he doesn’t exist. He’s thankful and he does his best to show it—though he represses the side of him that hates that Even can see how much he’s hurting.

So he watches Jakob touch the women to prove a point and verify a lie whose veracity nobody actually cares about—pandering to the more senior associates who apparently judge him on his 'normalcy', or as Isak likes to call it, internalized homophobia—and he laughs at Even's awful jokes. Even who tries so hard to make him laugh like he knows how much he’s constantly hurting. Even. 

.

The first time he invites Even to a movie, he blinks at him a few times. 

“Me?” he asks like Isak is pulling a prank on him. 

“Yes, you.”

“Uh, is Jakob okay with this?” 

“Jakob doesn’t care, and why wouldn’t he be?” Isak frowns.

“I don’t know. His boyfriend is taking me out?”

“I’m not taking you out,” Isak smiles. "A patient hooked me up with a couple of tickets, which is kind of illegal because we’re not supposed to accept gifts and stuff but she begged me to accept them and it was after she got discharged anyway and—“ Isak pauses. He’s rambling. “I’m rambling.”

“I noticed. Feel free to ramble to me any time,” Even smiles and it’s heartwarming. 

“Anyway. I got these tickets for free and Jakob is busy as always and the movie is on Tuesday in the middle of the day and you’re the only person I could think of who doesn’t work at that time.”

“I may be an artist but it doesn’t mean I don’t have stable work hours,” Even scoffs.

“Ugh. You know what I mean,” Isak rolls his eyes.

“What about you? Don’t you have work on a Tuesday at 13:00?”

“Well, I work the night before and my shift will end at noon,” says Isak.

“You’re inviting to a movie you’re going to sleep through?” 

“Yes,” Isak chuckles. 

“And what’s my incentive to go?”

“It’s a pretentious movie about art,” Isak shrugs. “Plus, I figured you wouldn’t mind watching over me while I take a quick nap. You’re nice like that.”

“You have a bed. You can take a quick nap in your bed.”

“I don’t take naps in my bed. My body only lets go when pompous movies are playing on the big screen.”

Even says yes and Isak falls asleep on his shoulder. He drools a bit, too, and Even holds it against him and makes sure to remind him every day. But Isak doesn’t mind, as long as they don’t talk about him snuggling up to Even halfway through the movie and whimpering when he opened his eyes and realized that Even had wrapped an arm around him.

They don’t talk about that because there’s nothing to talk about. Instead, they focus on Isak’s drooling problem and on how he supposedly snores, a claim Isak is trying to deny quite vehemently while Even insists and promises to record him next time. 

_ Next time. _

_. _

Even takes him to a movie  _ next time.  _ And while it feels odd at first when they’re in line for popcorn and realize that everyone is a couple around them, they settle into comfortable banter the moment they find their seats. 

Isak falls asleep again, and when he comes to sometime during the movie, Even’s hand is gently cradling his head and bringing it to the crook of his neck. Isak’s heart stutters in his chest and it’s humiliating how badly he needs and wants this. So he closes his eyes and imagines that it’s Jakob being this sweet and considerate to him in a dark movie theater, not Jakob's childhood friend.  

.

Even crashes on their couch for a few weeks. His lease is up after his roommate moved in with his girlfriend, and he’s still trying to decide whether he wants to live alone or find a new roommate.

Isak shakes his head and lies when Jakob asks if he minds Even staying for a bit. Because if Jakob were to know why he does actually mind, he wouldn’t be too thrilled. 

Even is a considerate roommate, Isak learns. He barely sees him, the apartment being completely plunged in darkness by the time he gets home after a late night shift or drenched in sunlight when it’s an early morning one. The first few days, Isak can barely tell Even is there. 

But one morning, he comes home around 10:00 and finds Even in the kitchen, cooking. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says apologetically. 

“Not at all,” Isak smiles and he’s stumbling with fatigue. 

When he leaves the bathroom after taking a shower, a tray is placed on his bed and it has eggs and bread and tea. Isak stands there for a second, confused. He then makes his way back to the kitchen with a towel hanging around his neck.  

“I made breakfast,” Even shrugs before Isak can say anything.

“For me?”

“And for myself as well. But yeah, I finally figured out your schedule and I thought I could do something nice to thank you for letting me stay over.”

Isak flushes.  _ Breakfast. In bed. For me. _ Jakob has never done anything like that for him, not even after Isak did it himself. 

“You didn’t have to.” 

“I wanted to.” 

Isak brings his tray out to the kitchen and eats with Even. They talk about his latest project, a script he’s working on for a potential Netflix production. Isak crosses his fingers and says ‘fingers crossed’. And for some reason, Even finds that adorable and tells him just that.

“You’re adorable.”

“I’m a grown man, Even. I’m not adorable.”

Awkwardness settle between them. And perhaps it’s because any outsider would misinterpret their situation. A resident surgeon finishes a late night shift after doing his post-ops and comes home to find that his boyfriend has made him breakfast. It’s picture perfect. 

The sun is shining through the yellow curtains, and Isak is in a white t-shirt and white shorts while Even is in gray sweatpants and a blue sweater. It’s perfect, really. Or it would have been, if it weren’t for Even being his boyfriend’s oldest friend. 

Isak goes to bed at 11:00 with wet hair, a full stomach, a swollen heart, and a silent wish on his mind. He shuts his eyes and imagines that Jakob was the one to make him breakfast and call him adorable. 

.

Even learns his schedule and Isak learns his too: it revolves around Isak’s. He comes home one night around three in the morning and finds Even smoking a joint in the balcony. 

“Hey stranger.”

“Shut up,” Isak rolls his eyes.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Even smiles as he lets out an impressive cloud of smoke, which  makes Isak roll his eyes and reach for the joint. 

Even watches him like he’s challenging him and it makes Isak giddy. He takes a couple of drags before handing it back.

“Can you do that?” Even blinks at him with wide eyes. “Can you operate under the influence? Is that allowed?”

“I’m off for the next 24 hours,” Isak explains, finally allowing himself to cough and look as uncool as he feels. “Jesus, I haven’t done this in a while.”

Even laughs and it’s so beautiful that Isak indulges despite Jakob being asleep in their bedroom right now. 

“So what are you doing these next 24 hours?” Even turns around so that his back is against the railing. He’s wearing a white tank top and Isak is about to faint. “Any plans with the boyfriend?” 

Isak shakes his head, disappointment and sadness suddenly washing over him at the bitter reminder. “Probably chilling home with Netflix or something. He’s too busy for me. Important lawyer and all,” Isak jokes.

“Isak, I hope you know that what you do is more important than what he does.”

“But he wears a suit and a tie and goes to cocktail parties,” Isak jokes because he’s feeling particularly self-deprecating tonight.

“And you save lives.”

“Well. I wouldn’t go that far. I mean I stitch people’s foreheads sometimes.”

Even sighs beside him while Isak folds his arms over the railing. He hates it too. How he puts himself down. He can almost feel Even’s discomfort.

“I could chill with you tomorrow if you want,” Even says after a little while, and it’s overwhelming how such innocent words mean the world in this instant. ‘ _ You don’t have to be alone. I can be alone with you.’ _

The words carry a solemn promise that Isak isn’t sure he can accept, however. Even is offering him the comfort and presence he wishes from someone else, and it’s not fair to any of the parties involved. None of this is fair. 

Isak is about to say no when Even speaks again and it hurts. “No one should spend their birthday alone.”

.

Even bakes him a cake, and it’s so terrible that he takes him out and buys him one at a bakery. Isak is still laughing at the fact that they had to use the fire extinguisher to put out the mess Even caused back in the apartment as he blows his candles. The whole scene was so funny and lighthearted that Isak didn’t even mind the ruckus and chaos, too busy filming the whole ordeal on his phone. 

“I still think my cake tasted better,” Even shrugs and he’s trying to look petulant but he’s just lovely.  

Before he can weigh the pros and cons of his sudden urge, Isak runs his index finger through the icing and swipes it across Even’s then bursts into laughter.

“I—  What?! How dare y—“ Even scoffs, but Isak doesn’t give him time to finish throwing his tantrum because he’s marking his other cheek as well, laughing even harder now.

And perhaps this is what Even was secretly wishing for when he bought him such a huge cake. Perhaps he just wanted Isak to stop thinking and to smear him with cake. Perhaps this is what he was after, Isak running around in the empty coffee shop, trying to escape Even’s cream-stained fingers. Perhaps. Maybe.

Isak is grateful he’s wearing an old shirt, because when Even catches him, he wraps both arms around his waist from behind and ruins the front of his tee. And Isak is so delirious with joy that he barely notices that Even isn’t letting go, that Even is holding him tighter than anyone has ever held him, that Even’s face is in his neck and that he’s breathing him in. The world along with his heart still for a moment. 

Everything fades to gray. 

Even lets go of him in one sudden jerk and Isak almost loses his balance right then and there. 

“We should probably head back—“ Isak isn’t sure who said the words.

.

There are flowers waiting for him at home and a card signed  _ Jakob. _ The message goes something like:  _ Hey babe. Late night at the office, happy birthday though. Let’s celebrate when it’s no longer your fucking birthday. _

In a fit of rage, Isak throws the flowers to the ground and feels like the world’s silliest person. 

They barely make a thud. He’s vain and stupid and dumb. He crouches down to pick up the flowers he’s abused when they haven’t done anything wrong, and when Even offers his help, he doesn’t turn him or his kindness down. 

They settle on the couch and Isak wishes he could pour his heart out to him without feeling like their broken faucet from a month ago or so. He’s ashamed and humiliated and he hasn’t even uttered a word. However, his eyes and his face must be doing the talking for him, for Even looks like he can tell. He looks like he can tell how lonely Isak is, how lonely and miserable Jakob makes him feel, how he wishes he could do something about it, how he doesn’t because he’s scared and terrified of losing him, of being alone all over again. Even looks like he can tell.

Isak is overwhelmed by how sad he’s feeling over something this stupid. At least he’s not alone on his birthday, at least he has  _ him, Even,  _ this tall weird man who’s always hovering somehow, waiting to swoop in and save the day. 

“Here. It’s for you,” Even says as he tears a piece of paper from what looks like a sketchbook and hands it to him. “It’s a rough sketch and all. But I like it. I think it’s perfect in its imperfections. You know, like a raw diamond or whatever.”

It’s a rough sketch, a drawing of himself. It’s him, Isak, asleep on the kitchen table while a soft light gleams through the yellow curtains. He looks tired but peaceful in his sleep. He’s wearing scrubs and it’s morning. It’s perfect and imperfect all at once.

_ A raw diamond. Me.  _

Isak blushes when he realizes how long Even must have stared at him for while he was sleeping to draw this. He blushes and sinks into his seat.

“What do you think? You can tell me if it’s shit. I’ll cry later but it’s fine. I can take it,” Even stammers and Isak is so grateful that he can’t help himself. 

He lunges at him on the couch and wraps both arms around his back, hugging him tight, so tight. 

“I love it. Thank you. Thank you so much, Even. It’s beautiful,” his own voice sounds so earnest that Isak gets choked up listening to himself express words of gratitude. He sounds like someone who’s never known affection, like someone who’s never been shown love and appreciation. Isak isn’t just touch-starved. He’s everything-starved, and it eats away at him. 

He’s about to pull back when Even tightens his arms around him, hugging him back, reciprocating. It’s liberating, dizzying. Isak almost whimpers.

“I’m so happy you like it.” 

When they part, Isak’s face is properly flushed and he’s so shy, he can barely look up. 

Even laughs softly, and in what seems like a moment of pure spontaneity, he brings a thumb to Isak’s cheek and caresses it until Isak’s mouth falls open of its own accord. 

_ Well, shit.  _

His phone rings then and it startles both of them and makes them jump away from one another. 

“It’s 21:21,” Even observes as he looks at the clock and Isak smiles. It’s his mother. She’s calling at exactly 21:21 because she is an angel. 

“I was born at 21:21,” Isak explains and it makes Even beam.

“Seriously?”

Isak nods then excuses himself to take his mother’s call. When he gets back, they watch a movie, order pizza, and play Fifa. And when Isak wakes up a few hours later in Even’s arms on the couch, he doesn’t wish it was Jakob holding him. Even is the one his heart yearns and reaches for.  

.

It becomes a problem, the tenderness he carries in his heart for Even, the stupid smile that curls his mouth whenever he sees him, the desperate urge to touch, and lean, and get closer, the warmth he feels in his bones whenever they’re too close, the longing in his eyes when it’s just the two of them talking about something stupid like the two Canadian figure skaters who won’t admit they’re secretly married. 

Even draws more sketches of him and Isak invites him to more movies, and art galleries, and strolls along the park. He tries Jakob first but he’s never free. And somewhere down the line, he simply stops asking. He’s tired of always asking, of always being met with the same answer. Isak is tired of hearing  _ no.  _ So he goes to Even because he always says yes. 

Even volunteers at the hospital as an art teacher when Isak suggests it, and he makes the children and the elderly smile alike. He’s always there, Even, all smiles and charms and kindness. Isak is even asked by a few nurses if Even is single, and he does his best to perfect his shrug. 

He almost has the nurses and some fellow residents convinced that he has no idea about Even’s relationship status when Even flushes all of his hard work down the drain. He’s a bit late today, so Isak entertains a seven year old with Leukemia until he makes his grand entrance. And grand it is. 

Isak turns around when Olivia says that Even is here, and he watches the tall idiot breathe on the glass window outside, draw a heart, then inscribe the letter ‘i’ in the middle. 

Even tilts his head when he’s done then smiles big and bright. Isak is thankful for the general ‘awe’ sounds around the room because they’re drowning his own. His heart swells inside his chest and he doesn’t know what to do about it. His feelings. 

He thinks he finally understands what Jakob meant when he referred to his feelings as an inconvenience, because he’s not sure how to describe his own right now. 

.

They’re not an inconvenience. If anything, they keep him going. His feelings. 

A child from the children’s wing dies on his operating table and Isak has a breakdown, a real one. Sana is right. He gets too attached, too emotional, too involved. That’s why she’ll be a much better surgeon than he could ever aspire to be. But he can’t help it. He can’t help his feelings. He can’t help them.

He calls Even and he lets himself cry against his shoulder on a bench outside. It’s stupid and what kind of doctor cries every time he loses a patient, really.

“I’m sure she knows you did your best,” Even says and he’s kind. He always is. 

“I wish my best was enough.”

Even hugs him then, cradles his head, and presses phantom kisses to his hair. And Isak indulges. He closes his eyes, lets himself be held, and tries to convince himself that he’s not the most selfish person to walk the earth, that he’s not using Even’s kindness to get the affection he so desperately craves. Isak does his best.

.

It gets worse and Jakob eventually notices. He notices and he asks Isak point blank one evening if something’s going on with Even, making his eyes go wide and his pulse quicken. 

“Of course not!” Isak nearly shouts but he doesn’t believe his own words. He hasn’t done a thing, hasn’t acted on his feelings, but his heart is no longer in the palms of Jakob’s hands, his heart is no longer beating for Jakob. The guilt starts eating at him. 

“Then why the hell do you have the drawing he gave you on the wall? You’re this close to building a shrine for the thing.”

Isak is seeing red at this point because  _ this  _ is what finally gets Jakob’s attention.  _ This?  _

“Well, forgive me for valuing the only birthday gift I fucking got this year!”   

Jakob falters and Isak’s chest is heaving. He’s furious but still feeling guilty. He loves that drawing. And it wouldn’t have mattered if Jakob actually got him a gift. The drawing would still have been his favorite gift this year. 

“Isak, just be honest with me. Are you sleeping with him?” Jakob asks again. “He’s all over your social media and he’s always fucking drawing you. Everyone at work is convinced you’re cheating on me.”

“That’s what you’re worried about? Your reputation at work?” Isak is seething as the words make their way through his teeth.

“No. I’m worried about my boyfriend fucking my best friend!” 

“You said it yourself! He’s your best friend and I’m your boyfriend. How could you think we would do that to you?!”

“I wouldn’t put it past the two of you with all the crazy shit he’s always doing and with how you’ll get on your knees for anyone who says two nice words to you.” 

Isak shoves him hard and it feels out of place. He’s never gotten physical with Jakob, not even when he called his feelings for Isak an ‘inconvenience’ or when he implied that he was a liability. And although the attack directed at him and at his tendency to feel for anyone who gives him the time of day breaks his heart, the one on Even makes his blood boil.

“How could you?! He’s not crazy. He’s bipolar. He’s your fucking friend!” Isak is shouting by now, shaking with it, the anger.

“A friend doesn’t go fucking serenading your boyfriend behind your back!” 

.

Isak is still angry while working in the emergency room. He concentrates on stitching up a girl who fell in the shower while having sex and tries to convince himself that she’s having a worse night than he is. He tries. He tries.

He’s still trying when his phone vibrates and Even’s name appears on the screen.

“Hey stranger. It’s time for a break. Don’t you think?”

.

Even brought him dinner because he is an angel. That’s what he is.

They eat outside on one of the benches and Isak is too tired to hide how utterly defeated he’s feeling. 

Even asks him what’s wrong and Isak shrugs because he can’t tell him. Jakob is right. What kind of friend brings their friend’s boyfriend dinner to their workplace? This isn’t right. This isn’t a regular friendship. The way Isak’s heart is tripping over itself right now isn’t right. The fact that he only looks forward to going home because it means he’ll get to see Even isn’t right. The fact that no matter what time Isak gets back to the apartment, Even is always there waiting for him isn’t right. None of this is right. They can’t keep doing this. 

They’re in a relationship, Isak realizes. They’ve been in a platonic relationship for the last few weeks now, maybe months. Every picture Even takes is of Isak and every thought Isak has is of Even. Every movie he’s watched in the past four months was with Even, and every time Even has cooked, it was for Isak. They’re in a relationship. And everyone can see it but them.  

They sit there and eat silently. And when he’s finished, Isak looks up at gazes at the stars above them and sighs. The sky is as clear as it was the night Even entered his life and his heart. Even who can probably tell that something’s wrong. Even can always tell. Only this time, he doesn’t ask.

They wrap up and dispose of everything in the trash cans. Neither of them is saying a word, but it feels like a breakup and Isak’s heart is bleeding.  

By the time he reaches the sliding doors of the emergency room, he’s about to cry. And he really wishes he could. He does. 

Even curls a hand around Isak’s forearm when he turns, and Isak’s voice cracks. 

“Even—” 

Even hugs him like he means it and Isak hugs him back even tighter. It’s frantic, desperate, and heartbreaking, and Isak wishes he could relearn how to breathe. Because he seems to have forgotten how to. 

And it hurts. It hurts to want this so bad. It hurts because he doesn’t know if he truly bears feelings for Even or if Jakob is right. If Isak is just confused because Even is nice to him and gives him the level of affection he’s always yearned for. 

It hurts and Isak breathes in Even like he’s never going to again. 

“Isak,” Even’s voice cracks, and there are tears in his eyes, and it’s too much. So Isak takes a step back and wipes his own tears while Even cups his face.

“Even, you can’t... We can’t...”

“Is—”

“It’s not right. We can’t. It’s not right.” 

Even lets him go. And this time, Isak doesn’t look back. 

.

He doesn’t hear from Even after that. When he gets home early in the morning, his things are gone and Jakob is lost in thought. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that some sort of confrontation went down. Isak closes his eyes and pictures Jakob saying degrading things about Even’s mental illness. And it hurts. He doesn’t know when Even’s hypothetical pain became his own, but it is his now.

They’re having dinner the next day, both silently nibbling at their takeout food from two different restaurants, when Isak feels the need to clarify, to corroborate, to reassure, if not just for Even’s sake. 

“Nothing happened,“ he says and it’s almost a whisper. “I know you think we fucked, but nothing happened. We were just friends.”

“I know,” Jakob breathes and it’s gentle this time. “I know. I’m sorry. I got carried away with stress at work and stuff, and I fucked everything up.”

“What did you do?” Isak asks, alarmed. “Where is he?” 

“I don’t know.”

.

By the fourth day, Isak is worried sick. He can’t sleep. He can’t really eat either. He can barely focus in the operating room and follow his attending’s instructions. His mind flashes to Even every time he catches a glimpse of the sun or of the lesser known stars at night. Isak is lost. Isak is sick. Isak is lovesick. 

He calls Sonja and Even’s other friends from parties, Mutta, and Elias, and Mikael. But no one knows where he is. No one’s heard of his whereabouts. Isak leaves a few detached voicemails at first.  _ Call me if you get this. Just wanna make sure you’re good.  _ But they quickly turn into something panicked and frantic. Isak has to delete several after listening to himself nearly have a breakdown on the phone. 

Isak considers reporting him missing but his family says that he takes off sometimes and the police will never take him seriously.  _ But what if—?  _ He hasn’t had an episode in years, most people tell him. He has nothing to worry about.

The fear is still crippling, however. Always there at the pit of his stomach. What if. 

.

They’re right. 

It’s two in the morning when Even texts him to come down. It’s chilly outside, but Isak punches the elevator buttons in his pajama shorts and Winnie the Pooh white t-shirt. He forgot to put on shoes, but he doesn’t care. He just hopes that he hasn’t woken Jakob who’s sleeping on the couch now that they're on a break until they figure out how to officially part ways. 

Even is waiting for him on the steps downstairs when he reaches the street. He’s carrying a huge backpack and he’s in jeans and a loose t-shirt. He looks good. He looks so good that Isak lets out a long relieved sigh and just breathes.

“Hey stranger,” Even smiles. 

Isak can’t help it. He jumps into his arms and hugs him for a solid ten seconds, squeezing and  feeling the muscles on his back because he can, because he needs to make sure he is okay. He needs to. He then leans back to take him in. 

He grabs Even’s face in both hands to look at him, to examine his face, his elbows, his throat, his limbs, to try and determine whether he’s lost some weight or put on any. 

Nothing alarming so far. Isak breathes again. He leaves his hands on the sides of Even’s face, strokes his cheeks, and gazes into his eyes, hoping his are conveying the words he cannot speak. 

The touches are innocent but Even is looking at him as though Isak is touching his heart, as though Isak is taking something from him and giving him nothing in return. They’re mere touches but Even is looking at him like they mean the world, like they’re healing all of his wounds and afflictions. 

Even is looking at him like he’s missed him, and Isak wonders how he can say that he’s missed him more without saying the words. He wonders how he can tell him that he’s not shivering from the cold. That his limbs are in a disarray, not because of the weather but because they’re aching for  _ him _ so badly, it hurts. So badly, that he’s shaking with it, the want, the need, the yearning, the worry, the fear. The overwhelming fear. It’s all coming back to him now.  _ God!  _

“I looked everywhere for you!” He nearly shouts and his voice is breaking. “Where the hell were  _ you?! _ ” 

Even pulls him into a kiss and Isak sees stars whose light is kind and warm. 

It’s bruising and reckless and all lips and teeth and tongue and desperate sighs and hands, and neither of them is breathing. Isak kisses back in a moment of pure hysteria and want before pushing Even away, both hands gentle on his chest, pushing when all he wants to do is pull.

“It’s not right. We can’t—“

Even kisses him again, this time with both hands on his face, thumbing his cheeks and making him rise to his tiptoes like the girls in the movies. And Isak curls into it, breathes him in, moans into his throat, and melts in his embrace, both hands in fists against his own collarbones. He’s not touching Even, but his lips are. His lips are kissing back, undeniably so, kissing back like he’ll die without it, opening up to him, only him, and allowing him to take and take and take.  

It hurts but it hurts so good. 

And when Even pulls back, there’s a soft but heartbreaking smile on his lips. “It’s right. Just not right now.”

Isak blinks at him. His lips hurt but his heart hurts even more because he hears the words before Even says them. 

“I’m leaving Oslo,” he breathes. 

“What—?” 

“I can’t stay, Isak. I can’t do this. I can’t—”

“Even—“

His heart breaks. Even is leaving because of them. Because of him.  _ No. Please. _

“I feel like shit,” Even continues and it’s strained and filled with guilt. And Isak knows why he’s feeling that way. He knows why he’s feeling guilty. He feels that way, too. 

“Even, please—“ 

“Jakob is right. I’m just a fuck-up who ruins everyone’s lives because I only ever want what I can never have.”

Isak cries, finally. He cries because he realizes that he wants Even and that he’s wanted him all along. That his feelings are real and that he would do anything for him. That it isn’t because Even is kind to him. How could it be.

It’s real. This is real. 

“Ev—“

“I love you,” Even says and both his hands are still on his face, holding him in place, his thumb ghosting over Isak’s bottom lip. “I love you so much it hurts.”

Isak inhales and the pain nearly blinds him.

“But I don’t deserve you,” Even continues. “I can’t have you. I’ll never forgive myself if I destroy you any more than I already have. I can’t do this to you.”

Isak watches him with his heart in his throat. His breaths are shallow and he’s wracking his brain for something elaborate and intelligent to say to make him reconsider. But nothing comes to mind. 

“Please don’t leave me,” he begs instead because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t know a damn thing.

“I love you.”

Even kisses him again and Isak can’t tell whose tears he’s tasting. Then before he can open his eyes, Even’s hands are gone from his face the same way Even is gone from his life: in the blink of an eye, the span of a heartbeat. 

_ ‘It’s right. Just not right now.’ _

.

Isak breaks up with Jakob once and for all as soon as he manages to stop crying and make his way back to the apartment. He crashes on Jonas’ couch after acknowledging that Jakob is a  _ dick  _ who tried to alienate him from his friends and things are a bit okay for a little while.

He takes control of his life, and his old friends all volunteer to help him move his things. He stores most of his belongings in his mother’s house while waiting to find a good apartment near the hospital. 

Things are good, and Isak takes Jakob out for breakfast and apologizes for stringing him along when his heart was clearly no longer his. Jakob apologizes too, for treating him like a liability and hurting his self-esteem so badly. He speaks of their first weeks together, of an Isak who was so confident and so brazen and sassy and alive that Jakob had fallen head over heels. It’s bitter and disheartening how Jakob couldn’t take the version of Isak that he had turned him into. 

They part on amicable terms and it’s one less thing on his conscience. 

.

_ ‘I love you so much it hurts.’ _

_ ‘It’s right. Just not right now.’ _

_. _

Isak calls him a few times but Even never picks up. He’s traveling around Italy, he hears from Sonja. He texts him on his birthday and during the holidays. He tries. He does his best. But it’s not enough. Even lied. His best is not enough, yet again. Never enough. 

Happiness is not for him. He accepts it now. Love and happiness aren’t for him. And if they are, then they aren’t right now. 

.

Months later, Isak receives a letter in the mail and his heart trips in his chest. It’s an invitation to a gallery. An art gallery in Oslo. And it’s signed Even Bech Næsheim. The title is in Italian and it’s as pretentious as expected. 

**_Se non ora, quando ?_ **

Isak doesn’t get it at first. He doesn’t understand it, how it’s related, connected, like everything always is in Even’s mind. He doesn’t see it, doesn’t deem himself important enough in the grand scheme of things. 

But then Sana says something about how weird the time of the exhibition is on Isak’s invite compared to hers and everyone else's, and he jumps in the hospital cafeteria to snatch the piece of paper from her hands. 

And when he gets it, when Sana literally translates the words for him, just because she is Sana, he chokes on it. 

**_If not now, when?  
_ ** **_April 21. 21:21_ **

. 

It’s been a year since they first met, Isak realizes on his way to the exhibition. And he hates him, absolutely loathes him and his tendency to make everything as dramatic and grand and as epic as possible when he’s been pining for months now. He hates him. And he will tell him when he finds him. He hates him. He—

The exhibition is a series of large portraits in bright colors. And Isak doesn’t know how to describe a painting to save his life, but he chokes up all the same. The pieces are intimate. The pieces represent Even’s feelings on canvas. 

Each painting has a name, an emotion attached to it. And most of them are of him. His face. His body. His hair. His eyelashes. One painting is just a splash of yellow with the description: **_his laugh_** **— Emotion: Joy.** And Isak hates him. 

"Hey stranger."

He hates him.

“I hate you!” Isak bursts when he spots him, and he can’t recall having this much fire in him after Jakob exstinguished all of it in years of emotional abuse. Isak can’t recall the last time he’s felt this alive. He can’t. “I hate you so fucking much!” 

But he doesn’t. Not even the slightest. He's so dizzy with love. And he’s smiling so wide, his cheeks hurt as he runs toward him,  _ him,  _ Even. 

They collide somewhere between  **‘** **_first meeting, by the sink_ ** **— Emotion: Empathy’** and  **_‘sleepy head, at the cinema_ ** **— Emotion: friendship/tenderness’.** And their impact is so forceful that they end up right in front of  **‘** **_21:21_ ** **— Emotion: Love’.**

This time, Isak doesn’t push him away, doesn’t feel guilt pulling at his heartstrings. This time, Isak doesn’t cry, doesn’t feel weak and worthless. This time, Isak doesn’t hurt, doesn’t taste either of their tears. 

This time, it’s perfect. Because this time, it’s  _ right.  _

**_If not now, when?_ **

They kiss like it’s right. They kiss like it's right now. 

They kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> <333 (this is obviously vERY inspired by S2 Delena. aka prime DE. aka when i was 16 and dYInG over network tv)
> 
> i'm on vacation which is why i'm MIA and can't update any of my chaptered fics (i write in one sittings and i can't block 15 consecutive hours) forgive meee. wrote this on a 6 hour flight this morning, hope you liked it. 
> 
> let me know if you did <333\. and leave me prompts in the comments. i'll do my best to keep them short.  
> i've gotten a few requests to post the longer prompts on ao3 as well. thoughts? 
> 
> thank you i love you so much <3333


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